Where Y'AT Magazine
New Orleans, LA - December 2003
by Dan Gilbert
Bring It On Down
Memphis International

After a debut album that announced to the world that the Red Stick Ramblers are nothing less than one of the most extraordinary bands in recent history, Bring It On Down screams out what their dedicated fans have been noticing since their inception: amazingly, improbably, impossibly, they’ve only gotten better. And not only have they gotten better, they’ve done so by certifiable leaps and bounds.

Their opening number, the Bob Wills/ Milton Brown classic “Bring It On Down To My House” is the perfect vehicle to showcase the transformation. Powered by the relentless rhythm of drummer Glenn Fields and bassist Ricky Rees, the twin fiddles of Linzay Young and Joel Savoy saw away with effortless beauty while guitarist Chas Justus blasts out explosive jazz riffs the likes of which have rarely been heard since Eldon Shamblin stopped playing with the Texas Playboys. Don’t even get me started on the steel and tenor guitars. They revisit the Wills repertoire twice more before the disc’s end, with standout versions of “Stay All Night” and “Dinah,” but Western swing is only a small part of what they do. A string band in the truest sense of the term, the Ramblers combine Cajun, blues, hillbilly and gypsy jazz into a potent brew that swings so hard that it’s almost sick, and rocks like crazy; the exact formula that their musical ancestors, such as Wills and Brown, utilized to blaze their names into the history books.

Their song writing, like their musicianship, has soared to new heights as well. The timelessly eerie “Main Street Blues” paints a riveting portrait of time and place inhabited by the kind of characters that normally only spring from the pages of stories by Sherwood Anderson, Flannery O’Conner and O. Henry. But it isn’t just the lyrics that do it. Another amazing twin fiddle workout gives way to more of Justus’s stinging single string guitar work, followed by a solo consisting solely of an assault on his tremolo bar.

A trio of French numbers salutes the Ramblers’ collective heritage, as well as showing their diversity in varying styles. “Belle” brings to mind the Delmore Brothers’ “Blues Stay Away From Me” complete with honky tonk barroom piano, “Two Steps des Condamnes,” an Iry Lejeune number, rocks out with accordion work courtesy of Steve Riley and finally, Cheese Read’s “Parting Waltz” is as traditional as they come; the only instruments being twin fiddles and vocals.

Like nearly any Johnny Cash song in existence, the problem with covering Merle Travis’s “Sixteen Tons” is that nobody that dares to tread on the sacred ground ever approaches the greatness of the original. The Ramblers manage the impossible: they actually transcend it, inhabiting the song as if they wrote it. Justus’s bluesy guitar work simultaneously boggles the mind, and, like Linzay Young’s vocal intimations, actually sends chills down the spine. The album closes with a beautiful ballad, Caffery’s Irish flavored “When The Sugar Cane’s Tall,” which seems to echo Young’s earlier “What Do I Do?” with its introspectively melancholy lyrics. In the words of the band themselves, they’re songs that depict “The many difficult situations we find ourselves in with relationships.” Ah, but aren’t those the best songs?

My only disappointment is that the boys didn’t include their great version of Memphis Minnie’s “Black Rat Swing.” Other than that, the only question that remains is, can the Ramblers hope to top an album this good? Don’t put it past ‘em!